


Disinterred

by feyrelay



Series: Do Not Pass Go, Do Not Write More Than 200 words [5]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 200 Word Challenge, Age Difference, Buried Alive, Burns, Don't copy to another site, Established Relationship, M/M, Уточнять у автора
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-13 02:26:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18459551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feyrelay/pseuds/feyrelay
Summary: He'll burn his way back to Tony. Whatever it takes.200 Word Challenge.***I have never, will never, allow any reposting or translations of my works without my permission. All of my works will and shall only be hosted on my personal accounts on AO3 (feyrelay), Pillowfort (feyrelay).I no longer have a Tumblr.I do not have a Twitter account.I do not have a Wattpad account.Please Do Not Repost My Fics ANYWHERE, including but not limited to Goodreads, Ficbook.net, or Fanfics.me. If you would like to translate a work of mine or host a translation you may contact me to ASK about that, at feyrelayfiction@gmail.com. Уточнять у автора.





	Disinterred

Peter wakes to satin.

Not the kind Tony often wraps him in.

No, the guts of a coffin, instead. He’s intimately familiar with what they look like, by now.

(There hadn’t been enough of his parents to bury, but he remembers rubbing the saleslady’s sample scraps between his fingers while May and Ben had tried everything they could not to have to talk dollars and cents, sitting in the lounge of a house that was not a house.)

Peter tries not to let his breaths come too fast; Spidey tells him they might not have many left.

He wonders how deep he is; surely it’s deeper than six feet, if the sad beep is correct.

He’s gone where Karen cannot follow, apparently.

He tries to think of how Tony would say it, would get out, all competent and wry and masculine. (“Comms are down, kid. S’no good. Let’s blow this popsicle stand.”)

 _Blow._  Explosive webs, of course. If he can just reach-

No, his shooters are gone. His tools, too. No nano repair set, no webcutter-

The lighter. (They wanted him to _see_ his prison.)

You’ll heal, Spider-Man tells Peter Parker.

He breathes.

They burn. All the way up.

(Together.)


End file.
